


Diurnal Dreaming #9: Denouement

by maven



Series: Diurnal Dreaming [9]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:21:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maven/pseuds/maven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A change in relationship leads to trust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diurnal Dreaming #9: Denouement

The drive from Dr. Kate's office to Catherine's house is about 20 minutes. I turn up the radio loud, listening to some asinine pop song that I can mock and thereby distract myself from thinking. Because, if I think this through, I'm going to turn around and run and this time I don't think I'll ever be able to stop.

I'd arranged the sessions for my days off to give me time before and after to brace myself. It was then that I'd noticed that Catherine had gradually been shifting her days off so that they coincided with mine. The implications of that had caused equal explosions of hope and dread.

I checked my watch as I pulled up. I'd have about an hour before Lindsey was due home to tell Catherine. That was the plan: in, tell, leave and if things went to hell call Dr. Kate. Or find the nearest liquor store.

She answers the door when I ring dressed in LVPD sweats and her hair tied back in a ponytail. She smiles, as if she's glad to see me, before her expression turns serious when I continue to just stand there like an idiot. Without a word she takes my hand and leads me into the living room, pushing me down onto the couch. I close my eyes, breathing deeply, and there's a dip to one side and then the other before her weight settles onto my lap. I hug her around the waist, turning my head so that her heart beats against my ear.

"I have some things I want to tell you," I say. "The things that explain but don't excuse. And if, after you've heard them, you never want to see me or have me around Lindsey I'll understand," I say. And it's true.

She doesn't speak. She just hugs me around the shoulders, one hand in my hair at the nape of my neck and the other splayed across my back. And I tell her.

There's no sense to it. No chronological order. I tell her about what happened. I tell her about Harvard and my return to California. I tell her about the arguments. I tell her about the times I hurt myself and the times I really hurt myself. I tell her about everything. And when there's nothing left to tell I continue to hold her and listen to her heartbeat.

And then she releases me, hands cradle my face as she turns me, light kisses on my eyelids and cheeks as if to kiss away tears that I haven't shed in years. I brace myself and open my eyes.

"Why did you think I'd ask you to leave us?" she asks.

"I asked Grissom if there was a murder gene," I say. Which isn't really an explanation but she gets it.

"He said no, right?" I nod. "But you didn't believe him?" I shake my head no. "Sara, I'm 99% positive my father's a murder and 110% positive that he's a very evil man. So, if there is, Sara, then I have it and Lindsey has it. Do you believe that of me, of Lindsey?"

I shake my head in horror. "No."

"Then believe it for you. We don't choose our parents, Sara, and we don't have to become them. Got it?"

I nod, slightly shell shocked, my glance going to the family picture of Catherine's parents surrounded by grandkids.

"Not him. Sam Braun. Long sordid story I'll tell you some other time. Now, what do you want to do?" she says softly.

I don't know what's she's asking, if she's talking about today or my life. I hadn't planned this far, hadn't dared hope that she'd allow me around Lindsey, want me around her. I'm caught between my past and my future and settle on what I want right now.

"Do you wanna watch Nemo with me?" I finally suggest.

She shakes her head and smiles as she starts to get up. "What's with you and that movie?"

"You're my Marlin. You make me remember what's important in life."

She freezes and then sits back down on me hugging me so tight I can barely breathe. "Thank you," she says.

I just shrug and after a few seconds she stands. "Right. Here or my room?"

"Depends," I ask, head still whirling, "can we have popcorn?"

"Not in my bed," she says firmly.

"Decisions, decisions," I mutter. She's looking at me, expression amused but neutral. "I can do without popcorn this once."

She smiles and stands, pulling me up and leading me from the room. I pull back a bit.

"The movie?" I ask, looking at the rack of movies and CDs.

"I got a second copy for my room," she says.

"Oh," I say, still too frazzled to contemplate the implications of a copy just for her bedroom but very aware that there are, indeed, implications. "Lindsey?"

"She has a birthday party after school until around seven."

"Oh." I'm suddenly feeling overwhelmed as she hands me the DVD case before turning to the bed.

"Set this up?"

I open the case, cursing the press-here button that was obviously designed by sadists, and eventually get the DVD into the unit without snapping either the disk or the tray. I double-check that I've run out of excuses and turn around.

Catherine has settled into the middle of the bed, the pillows a cushion between the headboard and her back, arms resting on raised knees, remote in hand.

She taps the bed between her knees and raises an eyebrow. I try to form words but fail miserably.

"It's okay," she says, leaning forward to pull one of the pillows out.

"No!" I say loudly. "That's okay. You look comfortable. I mean," I amend as I realize my words might have more than one meaning, "You look like you're comfortable. It's okay," I manage as I take step forward.

"Shoes," she says, grinning. "No popcorn, no shoes. Those are the rules."

"Any other restrictions?"

"Not many," she says and I crouch quickly to untie my boots and hide my blush. I manage to knot up the left foot and finally just manhandle it off hoping desperately that I don't look as dorky as I feel. Shoeless I finally turn and crawl into the centre of the bed; a move that movie actresses make look sexy but just further enhances the air of ineptness I'm cultivating.

By the time Nemo starts school I've relaxed enough to actually lean into her. And when Nemo gets captured Catherine's worked her one arm across my lower rib cage and I've hooked my arm around her leg. My eyes are drifting shut so I miss the sharks. Marlin and I wake around the same time although, honestly, I'd rather wake up sprawled on Catherine than a sea turtle.

"I wasn't sure what to do," she's whispering in my ear. I'm held in a bear hug, her arms around my waist and shoulders, and her head pressed against mine.

"About what?"

"You were having a nightmare."

"I was?" I ask. I'm an expert at my nightmares and this doesn't feel like one.

"Yeah. I recognized it from when Lindsey slept with me after Eddie died. I'd just hold her and she'd usually ease out of it."

"Oh. I... thanks."

"My pleasure," she says, breath tickling my ear and I'm suddenly very aware that she's still holding me tightly. I pull forward enough to that I can twist around to look at her.

"Catherine?" I groan in protest. I'm not sure exactly what I'm protesting because everything is about a million times better than it was a minute ago.

"That's why I hate my nicknames. Say it again."

I get to the second syllable before she's kissing me, light and teasing. "I like this. It's like I'm taller than you," she says when she finally releases me.

"Press pause please," I ask. She releases me enough to grab the remote and hit pause. "Are you sure? Because I'm totally fucked up and no prize and I don't know that I can change."

"I beg to differ," she grins. "I'm sure. Now, movie or making out?"

"We can't do both? I mean, first no popcorn and now making out?"

"My ego can't take you interrupting the making out to quote along with the movie."

"Oh."

"Plus, when you do the whale impersonation..."

"Watch the movie with me?"

"Yeah," she says. "But I get to do the seagulls?"

"What?"

"Mine," she says, hugging me tight while pressing play. "Mine, mine, mine."

THE END


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